


Please Teach Me Gently How To Breathe

by Virago77 (PriPri)



Series: Currents [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Character Death, Comfort, Confessions, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Spoilers for S03.Ep07 Currents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-17
Updated: 2013-07-17
Packaged: 2017-12-20 11:43:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/886868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PriPri/pseuds/Virago77
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles comforts Derek after Boyd's death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Please Teach Me Gently How To Breathe

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't resist the urge to write some quick Sterek fluff to go with the previous story.
> 
> [2015/09/04--While trying to finish up the series, I've re-edited the original stories.]

* * *

Putting a comforting hand on Derek’s shoulder was the only thing he thought the alpha would allow.  And Stiles wasn’t really sure he would accept that gesture.  What he really wanted to do was to wrap him up in an embrace and hide him away from all of the hurt and loss.  Because for all that Stiles thought Derek was a dick, he hated seeing the man hurt.  Derek had already endured so much, and this?  This was too much.

            “Derek?”  Stiles had said his name several times already and so far Derek had yet to respond.  “Derek?” he called again, only this time Derek placed a hand over Stiles’ in answer.  It was enough to put Stiles in motion.  He moved to face him but before he could say or do anything, Derek wrapped his arms around his waist, pressed his forehead into his stomach, and he cried.

            Derek Hale was crying on him.

            _Derek Hale was crying on him._

            It was all he could do to keep his heart from breaking at the sound.  So Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek’s shoulders and did his best to soothe the weeping man.  “I’m so sorry Derek.  I’m so sorry,” he said tearfully.

            They stayed like that until Scott arrived and took charge of the situation.  As much as Stiles wanted to help, his main priority was keeping the alpha as calm as possible.  He had been forced to kill a member of his pack.  The man was already unstable and this would only add to his laundry-list of issues.  And if the alpha pack was any indication of things to come, Derek was bound to lose himself to a blood lust.  If Stiles could keep him centered and calm and stop that from happening, then that’s what he was going to do.

            Stiles stayed glued to Derek’s side throughout the whole nightmare of wrapping Boyd’s body, transporting and burying him in the preserve and the improvised funeral service.  Derek didn’t fight; he went willingly to Stiles’ Jeep and sat silent in the passenger’s side throughout the ride to the Stilinski home.

            It worried Stiles that the alpha allowed himself to be manhandled into the house, out of his clothes and into the bathroom for a shower.  Stiles left a clean towel, tee shirt and a pair of sweatpants for Derek to use, and then he sat in his room and waited.  And waited.  And waited.  And just when he stood to go check on him, Derek entered his bedroom.  He was wearing the clothes Stiles had laid out for him, his hair was wet and flat against his head, and he looked so young and absolutely lost.  Shattered.

            “You okay?  Stupid question Stiles, of course he’s not okay.  Derek I’m—”

            “It’s okay Stiles,” he cut him off, “I’m not okay, but I’ll function.”

            Stiles nodded, “Okay.  I’m gonna grab a shower.  Make yourself comfortable.  You should remember where everything is from your last stay at casa de Stilinski.”

            Derek nodded and Stiles moved toward the bedroom door.  As he passed him, Derek’s hand shot out gripped his wrist, stopping him in his tracks.  Stiles looked at where Derek held him, gently but firmly and then looked to his face to try and find an answer.  But Derek wouldn’t or couldn’t look him in the eye, “Derek?”

            “Thank you,” he whispered.

            It surprised Stiles.  “What?”

            “Thank you.  You always seem to be there, saving me.  And I have to wonder…why?” Derek asked.

            “I know that I want to kill you about fifty percent of the time, but I don’t actually want you dead.”

            Derek released his arm and finally looked at him.  “Why not?  Everyone would be better off if I had let Kali kill me tonight.  Instead now, I’m going to end up one of them.  I don’t want to be like that!  If—”

            “Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa, pump your brakes,” Stiles said loudly, pulling Derek up short.  “You’ve been through some serious shit tonight and we’ve all endured a lot this year, so I’ll be damned, after everything we’ve fought for, I let you go all bloodlusty-psycho-wolf like them.”

            “And you’re gonna stop me?” Derek scoffed, anger seeping into his voice as he began moving into Stiles’ space.

            “Yes,” he said it with confidence, but still backed away from Derek’s advancing form.  It was a bad idea to try faking bravado with a werewolf—especially Derek; he would see right through it and call his bluff.  He _had_ to be confident, had to show Derek that he _was_ going to help him.

            “Really?  How do you plan to do it?” he asked when Stiles bumped into the wall beside the door.  He had his prey cornered and the wolf was itching just under the surface to be let out to claim it. 

            Stiles flinched at the tone of Derek’s voice.  If he had been a beta, he would likely be whimpering and baring his throat in submission right now.  Derek’s eyes flashed red as he placed his hands flat against the wall on either side of him, boxing him in.

            “I can already feel it rising up in me.  How could _you_ possibly stop it?”

            Stiles was on the verge of panic, but knew if he did all would be lost.  He took a deep breath, and sought his courage.  Stiles stood up straight, moving off the wall an inch, though he was still boxed in, “I’ll anchor you.”

            That startled Derek and his eyes momentarily flashed between red, his normal, multicolored eyes and back to red so fast if he had blinked, Stiles would have missed it.  “Anchor me?  Anchor me how?” he snarled.

            This was not at all how he planned this conversation in his head, but such was the life of Stiles Stilinski.  “Fuck it,” he muttered before reaching up, grabbing hold of Derek’s face and pulling it to his in a hard kiss.

            Almost as soon as their lips met, Derek growled, moved his hands away from the wall to wrap around Stiles’ torso and pulled him flush against his body.  Stiles had started it, but Derek took immediate control of the kiss.  He opened his mouth over Stiles’, slipped his tongue out and licked along the seam of Stiles’ full lips.  He pushed his way inside the warmth of his mouth and pressed his tongue to Stiles’, teasing it, sucking it.  Stiles let loose a moan and looped his arms around Derek’s neck, holding on as his knees went weak.

            Derek grinned at the sound and pulled back to suck on Stiles’ bottom lip.  He nibbled at it, slowly bringing down the intensity of the kiss until he was just snatching his lips against Stiles’.  Stiles chased after his mouth wantonly when he pulled away completely.  Derek took in the sight of him, pupils blown, face flushed, and lips kiss-bitten and wet.  It made his wolf whine with need.  “I didn’t think you’d ever make a move,” he rasped.

            Stiles’ mouth dropped open, gaping in disbelief.  “Are you kidding—you knew?!”

            “Werewolf,” Derek said with a smirk.

            “You mean to tell me you really can smell arousal?”  Derek chuckled and the sound was so different from anything Stiles had ever heard from the man.  Stiles catalogued the sound in his head and made it his mission in life to pull that sound from him as often as possible in the future. 

            “Yes, but it wasn’t just that.”

            “Was I seriously that obvious?” he asked, mortified.

            “Actually, no.  I just…I notice you Stiles.”

            Stiles’ face twitched in surprise and he couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at the corners of his mouth, “You—you _notice_ me?”

            Derek rolled his eyes knowing it was probably best to just get his confession over with, “Yes, Stiles.  I watch you all the time.  I’ve wanted you for…for longer than I’d care to admit.  Why do you think I always get between you and danger?  Why do you think I always threaten you?”

            “Because you’re a twisted individual who gets off on torturing me?”

            Derek sighed and pulled away from the young man because that was a fair assessment.  He sat on the end of the bed scrubbing his hands through his hair in frustration.  “I do it with the hope that you will actually keep yourself out of the middle of everything.”

            It was Stiles’ turn to laugh.  “How’s that working out for ya Big Guy?” he asked patting his shoulder teasingly as he took a seat on the bed next to Derek.

            “Fantastic,” he said sarcastically.

            “So if you know about me and feel the same way, why all the radio-silence?”

            “You figured out the _whole_ story about Kate?”  Derek eyed him meaningfully.  Stiles had to look away, but nodded.  “Then you can imagine how badly I don’t want to become her.  So I waited.  I waited for you to either make the decision for yourself, or turn eighteen.”

            “You mean to tell me I’m gonna be a virgin until my eighteenth birthday?” he squeaked.

            “I didn’t say that.  I just thought that if I was going to approach you, I should wait until you’re legal.”

            “But if I made a move on you before I’m legal, that’s okay?”

            “I know it doesn’t make sense logically, but in my head, if you worked up enough courage to tell me how you felt then—”

            Stiles held up his hand to quiet him.  “You don’t have to explain yourself to me.  Just tell me where this puts us.”

            “Well if you were serious, it puts you as my anchor to humanity.  Hopefully you’ll be enough to keep the bloodlust at bay.  Everything else can wait until after we deal with Deucalion.”

            “What?!”

            “Stiles, now is not the time to start romantic relationship.  There are so many things we have to discuss before you decide that you really want to be with me.”

            “Like what?”

            “Like how we deal with you constantly being caught between me and Scott.  Like how we tell your father _everything_.  Like how I tell you everything about my past and the things I’ve done.  If I’ve learned anything from my mistakes it’s that secrets are bad; they cause dissension and get people killed.  I don’t want to start anything serious with you with secrets between us, okay?”

            “That sounds nice.”  Stiles smiled brightly at him, “But does this mean we can’t even make out?”

            Derek laughed.  A real, full-bellied laugh and Stiles felt his heart swell at that sight and sound.  _Mission accomplished!_

            “There will be _so_ much making out,” he said, grabbed Stiles by the back of his head and pulled him in to a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Title borrowed from The XX song, Shelter.


End file.
